


Counting Seconds

by TottWriter



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: M/M, One-Shot, aaaaangst, post 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TottWriter/pseuds/TottWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some Kenkeru for OTP week, prompt three: Stargazer Lily/"I Wish You Were Here"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Seconds

**Author's Note:**

> OTP Week continues, with me getting back to my usual angst again. I am fully prepared for future parts of Tri to come along and render this situation impossible, but, eh. It's sort of a crackship anyway, so who cares, right?

It was snowing.

Takeru would always remember the snow that year. Big fat flakes, drifting lazily down through the sky and enveloping the city in an icy, white blanket. He stood by the window, staring out into the world, and watched it fall. Watched as the hard corners began to soften, and the rush and clatter of distant city life slowed. It was quiet.

There were no fireworks yet; those wouldn’t start until later, if they even managed to start at _all_ amid the snowfall. Probably they would. There were more than enough people waiting for the display. The news had been filled with excitement and anticipation, and with the reports of the earliest celebrations, already starting in those tiny islands out in the pacific. Outside his room, he could hear the muted sounds of the television. A cheerful presenter and catchy jingle.

It made the silence in his room even louder.

There were no lights on, and no celebrations planned. They’d had a party last year; gathered together as many second generation Chosen Children as they could to send off 2003 in style. To celebrate their victory and to mourn the passing of Oikawa. Half of it had even been spent in the digital world, meeting old friends and making new ones among the children they hadn’t gotten to know the year before.

That was last year. Now, no one wanted to remember. No one wanted to celebrate. And although they’d held a memorial for Oikawa earlier that day, it hadn’t felt right at all. Mr Hida had been there, with his daughter, both of them standing in Iori’s place. Jun had showed up for the Motomiyas, and Momoe for the Inoues. Alone out of all the Tokyo Chosen, Ken’s family had been unrepresented. His parents stayed away, too lost in grief to make the trip over to Hikarigaoka. Takeru had found one of Ken’s books in his room, weeks before, and in the absence of anything better, packed it in his bag and taken it along. At least there had been _something_ of him there.

It wasn’t good enough. It couldn’t be good enough—the only thing which would have made it right would have been for _Ken_ to be there, just the same as Iori should have been, and Daisuke, and Miyako. They shouldn’t be gone. Shouldn’t be missing, _still_. He wanted them back, especially as the snow fell slowly and steadily, and began to settle on roads which would soon be swept clear. This time of year was for family and friends, and without them he felt as though everyone was falling apart. He missed the days when they’d all been together.

But mostly, however selfish he felt admitting it, he missed Ken. Missed his gentle eyes; missed the contour of his nose; missed his mouth, soft and full and slow to smile—but beautiful when it did. Missed the curve of his jaw; missed his hands, slim and elegant. Missed his voice. Missed him so badly it hurt inside.

He’d always loved snow. On that strange, long and short day years before, he’d been delighted by the sudden blizzard which had heralded their adventures. Even on File island, lost and stranded, finding it had been a moment of happiness in an otherwise arduous trek from nowhere to nowhere else. It was cheerful. It was festive. It was damn good _fun_.

Now, though, all he could think of was the snowballs he wouldn’t throw at Ken this year. Of the brisk and chilly walk to the station he wouldn’t make; not tramping through drifts or hearing it crunch underfoot. Now, the quiet which filled the air was the silence beside him. Empty. Waiting. And achingly cold.

He kept up his vigil, stood in silence by the window as the snow fell deeper and deeper, and the hours rolled by. Finally, when tiredness dragged at his bones, he heard the deep clanging of bells from the television. His mother must have switched it over to the news. Sighing, he turned away from the window, and grabbed his D-Terminal. He returned to his watchpost as the muted sound of bells rang on.

Light filled the sky, followed half a heartbeat later by a deep, rattling _BOOM_. He could see part of the display from his window, and there was no denying that the fireworks were glorious. Even through the snowy night Takeru could hear the cheering. Hear the celebrations on the television. Hear the gentle, unconcerned ticking of the clock on his wall: constant, unchanging, relentless. Second after second making his last moment with Ken further away, with no way of knowing when the next would be. You couldn’t do a countdown if you didn’t know what day or week or month or _year_ you were counting down to.

Takeru looked down at the device in his hand. It had long since stopped working properly, but the last received message showed on the screen, as it had for months now. He couldn’t bring himself to navigate away from it, in case it disappeared altogether.

_::Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I wish you were here already xx::_

“Happy New Year, Ken,” he murmured, looking back up at the bright fireworks and ignoring the tears which filled his eyes. “Wherever you are.”

 


End file.
